


Ditched

by MasterProcrastinator



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: M/M, argument, jeffmads - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterProcrastinator/pseuds/MasterProcrastinator
Summary: I found this super old prompt in my folderLike literally wrote this two yrs agoY'all can have itIt's not comPleTeD butttMostlyBasically my OTP had a fight
Relationships: Thomas Jefferson & James Madison, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Kudos: 23





	Ditched

Click, clack. Click, clack.

Madison had been pacing the halls for......well, he wasn't really sure how long; all he knew was that his soles ached and the sun had set a while ago--- but none of it had eased his anxiety---or blew off the steam for that matter.  
Again he was left with a flat glass of sparkling cider to entertain himself; and not a Thomas to be found. Again he had stressed the importance, pushed the sorrows into that dark, slimy ditch of denial, and casually jumped another mile for this man. This man. And God, did he hate this man right now!  
He bit his lips in sher rage and anger as he thought of the betrayal. Merely choked on the sudden rush of sadness that soaked it over. It was driving him completely and utterly insane. And it surely would've too; had the sound of the keys latching into the hinges not dwindled his consuming meltdown.

In stepped a being. The being, with mountains of defined, brown curls. The being, who was merely never caught not cloaked in his vibrantly extravagant attire. The being, who smelled like cinnamon buns and whipped shea butter. That dreadful scent. The worst torment of all was that James loved that dreadful scent. Even then he couldn't bring himself to that easy haven of forgiveness for the thousandth time.

They linked gazes for what felt like a thousand years. The eyes are the windows to your soul, Eleanor Madison had countlessly reminded her oldest. And who was to say that wasn't true? What was also true was that one can easily hide behind their shield-like, chocolate brown eyes and store away their soul. Thomas was a pro at it.

His leather boots were faintly dampened by the weak snow fall outside. He rustled in his cold jacket. One. Two. Three times before pulling it off of his long arms..  
And walking right past James.

He scoffed rather loudly, a twist to his characteristically collected nature.

" With all due respect , FUCK you, Thomas."

" With all due respect, Good Evening, James."

Thomas' slender fingers wrapped around the lonely glass on the table, entitled. He took a slow, mocking sip.

" It's flat."

" Like your damn dignity."

The man pressed his hand to his chest, a pout settled on his lips.

" Ouch; why so spicy?"  
Thomas strode towards his other, ready to embrace James while he coldly muttered something about hoping Thomas had choked on the beverage.

His palms grazed the man's shoulders before he sharply pulled away, rubbing them as if they had been burnt.

" DON'T....touch me."  
James trailed off. That one measly touch was all it took. All at once he felt the first-time-flutters rushing back to his fingertips, swollen with heat. He stood almost still with a slight shiver to his built, fearful his next move would be easy forgiveness. Ah forgiveness. Yet another trait Eleanor Madison had countlessly reminded her oldest son of.

Thomas rubbed his hands together as he tried to mask the surprise. He opened his mouth to speak.  
" James, I--"  
The small politician turned around, a near craze in his eye, a sickening smirk in his lips as he sarcastically interrupted with a curious-  
" Where were you?"

Thomas sighed. He feared their conversation would take that sour dip, though no foreseeing could have prepared him for it. Boy, James could be frightening when he was upset.

" Like I said, I was at a meeting,"  
His voice stumbled out, lacking the very confidence that man had strut in with.

" The formal gathering of high standing individuals for an organized cause or discussion."

Thomas stared deeply, unmoved aside from a bewildered squint.  
" What?" He hissed.

James returned the greenness with a dumbstruck gauk, staring bitterly at his lover.  
" A meeting." He said simply, a chill to his words.

" You'll have to excuse me; I fail to understand how such blatant disregard for a infant-level request can be so formal for a individual who is far too low to battle with any breathing form of an organized discussion evident through every line of fuckery I must accept! So again, can you explain to me, like you said, how you were at a meeting?"

The man was nearly frozen.  
" Wow, okay; you're pissed. I get that. At least let my breath before you drop a Jimmy-Bomb on me."

The way he said it... just the way that came out; so oblivious. So care-free. So indolent. Just somehow, he managed to piss James off even more.

" Shall we do it together? Inhale. Exhale! Because that all we're going to do, right, strolling though the damn Earth's Crust soaking in them fresh vibes: because you totally told me you were going to ditch me for a few days!" The small creature was shivering steadily now, boring in to Thomas with a deadly stare. He didn't even seem to notice.

Thomas merely rolled his eyes in annoyance, gracefully unraveling a dashing scarf from around his neck. Then he slammed it down on the center piece. James jumped.

" That's not fucking fair, James. You already know I'm a critical, political attorney. You already know I can't balance thirty things at the same time. You, of all people, know that! We portion the same damn passion for Pete's sake."

" Yes! That's exactly right, Thomas,"  
The short gentleman raised a finger matter-of- factly. It were as if their every conversation was lit with a political undertone.

" We do portion the same damn passion. And because of that one tiny feature, we should both be able to understand each other the most. Because of that one little thing, we should both be able to prioritize what is most important. So don't try that shit with me; damn right we have the same passion, the same occupation; that just means you can't get away with any bull crap. I can prioritize, so why can't you!"

Thomas's ears began to glow with a bright red hue; a vivid sign that he was angered.

In the buzz of the moment, for some odd cause, Madison enjoyed driving the stoic man to such a negative edge  
" Well pardon me, Mr. Madison; I've forgotten to douse myself with an extra spritz of  
" you " this morning. Forgive my imperfection. Next time, I'll be sure to act JUST LIKE YOU! " One could be bruised, pinned to the ground by the loud, dangerous quality of his dialogue.  
James felt as the fury began to infect him.  
" I--... I never said I was perfect." He growled deeply, narrowing his gaze.  
" Well sir, our passions remind us that actions speak louder than words. I would expect no less than perfect from someone who walks around with a pole up their ass!" Thomas screamed with a horror -inducing rasp.

James clenched his tiny fist into a tight ball.

His heart began racing. His breath had the weight of an entire nation. A sudden gushing sensation held itself close to his cheeks; large, whopping tears merely dwarfed his small face as they fell into a rich, rhythmatic pattern; but he couldn't stop them. He couldn't stop it as he began whimpering and heaving hard. And he certainly couldn't stop it when he lunged himself at Thomas.

" What did you just say to me?!"  
He drew back and started pounding into the man. But he was far too small to inflict any kind of pain, laying into whatever her could reach as hard as his frail body could muster. Nothing he did gave any effect. Boy, did he hate that.

" Stop with that shit, James!"  
Thomas harshly pushed the small man away, anger radiating off of him, a bitterness in his mouth from the sting of his insults. James nearly hit the ground, but got back up and continued to hit, tears streaming down his face as the panic attack worsened.

" I said STOP JAMES!"


End file.
